Stephenie Meyer owns everything. I own nothing except this totally made-up fanfic.
It was too much to take in all at once and Sam felt like he was losing touch with everything his life was built upon; his pack, his place within the pack, his supposed lack of choice, his shame at not fighting harder for Leah and the new needle of doubt about the motives of his imprint. A needle that became sharper with each passing minute. Eventually Sam's dry sobs ceased and he sat up slowly to stare at the scarred kitchen table, finding one particularly deep scratch to focus his eyes on in an attempt to anchor himself to his surroundings. Unconsciously he began to rub the scratch with his index finger like it was a Braille symbol that would unlock the mysteries of his life. Rubbing, rubbing, rubbing . . .
It came to Sam as he continued to rub that damn scratch in the tabletop that since phasing, he had gotten out of the habit of thinking about his life; his instincts had kicked in and the man hadn't really tried to wrestle control away from the wolf. He didn't plan anything in his life. He planned for the pack as far as strategy. But planning for his own life became a forgotten pleasure once he phased and couldn't leave the rez and once he imprinted and had no choice in his mate. He reacted in the moment and lived day by day without thinking about the future. Really, maybe not having a future was the real legacy of the spirit warriors. They are given inhuman speed, hearing, eyesight and survival instincts. Sitting in his quiet kitchen Sam felt the weight of his life in every bone and sinew. He suddenly felt a hundred years old while full of the anxiety of the average 15-year-old after drinking a half-dozen Red Bulls. Ugh.
Shaking his head, the Alpha began to focus on his brothers and not himself. His anxiety slowly dissipated to a manageable level. At least he no long felt like his head was going to explode. Sighing, Sam realized that 'manageable level' in this circumstance meant he was sitting upright, not experiencing panic induced vertigo and not having an aneurism. He concentrated on taking regular breaths and rubbing that fascinating scratch on the table as he began to consider what Rachel discovered.
Telling the pack about Rachel's imprint info could push the pack into a 1,000 foot hole with a tornado of shit and wet fur at the bottom. At the best of times it was difficult to maintain control within the pack mind. Sometimes it was friggin' impossible to keep the individual wolves focused on wolf business not random thoughts of Kim's cute ass, Brady trying to figure out a way to convince his English teacher to accept that World War Z is literature and worthy of a term paper or that Collin couldn't figure out why his feet had started to smell like candy coated dead fish. A mystery that the whole pack wanted solved. Stat.
Gratefully moving on from thinking about Cody's rank paws, Sam began to put together coherent thoughts from the information swimming in his head. He knew that anything fucking with the pack's collective consciousness about their understanding of imprinting would likely result in a shit storm that they might not survive intact, individually or as a unit. Each of the wolves was as individual as the men and boys that were his responsibility and he considered the possible responses of his wolves. Quil lacked focus. Unless he was with Clair. The idea that his imprint could be less than the perfection he imagined, or that the imprint could eventually be broken, would send the poor guy into a fractured state of mind that would echo through each wolf in the pack. If Quil couldn't rein in his thoughts or if he panicked the entire pack would feel every anxiety spike and live it with him. While Jared didn't lack control, he became unreasonable and on a hair-trigger if anyone questioned his feelings for Kim or even the idea of imprinting. The smart and kind Embry would learn all he could about what was going on and try to keep his friends together. The younger wolves would be confused and trying to stay out of the way but they did have a habit of letting their thoughts run wild when surprised and the resulting noise was like being in the middle of a combination NASCAR race and a Drop Kick Murphy's gig. Loud, discordant and likely to drive a even a tough assed wolf over the edge into insanity. Sam didn't worry about Paul's ability to handle anything unexpected through the pack mind. He was the most instinctual of the pack and everything about him in wolf form was about survival, including protecting his mind. Paul's mind was on lock down every time he phased. For fuck's sake, Sam hadn't even had a hint of a thought in all this time that Paul and Rachel weren't imprinted. That news was un-fuck-ing . It made Sam ball his hands into fists from tension at the fact that a subordinate wolf was able to hide something so important from its Alpha. That shit was not supposed to happen.
After a few minutes Sam began to let go and his mind drifted. He began to wonder what he would think if he was told about Rachel's information for the first time while phased and mentally connected to the pack. It made him realize that almost every conversation he had that involved imprinting he fell back into a defense position. Not just verbally but physically. He remembered leaning into Jake and the feeling of his shoulders expanding when Jake questioned imprinting providing a soul mate. Sam remembered other such conversations and his defensiveness when anyone questioned or discussed imprinting. He now was able to recognize that he always felt that anyone not totally on board with fate giving you the perfect mate was questioning Emily's place by his side and within the pack. The highly irregular way that Emily was inserted into his life had kept the tongues on the rez wagging for that first year and added to his need to protect Emily. In this instance, her reputation. An uncomfortable itch of a thought began to emerge into a conscious thought . . . was his defensiveness actually him questioning Emily's role in his life and with the pack? He grabbed his chest, the physical pain at the very thought felt like someone was aiming a blow torch at his heart. To ease the blazing hurt he turned his thoughts from imprinting and began to think about his place in the pack.
After a minute he was able to take a deep breath without it catching as he wondered about his role as a wolf and leader. Since Sam phased and it became clear that others would follow, Sam had known that he was essentially the Alpha Regent until Jacob took over. His view on this began to change when Jake split off into a small pack with Seth and Leah. Jake was adamant that he didn't want to be Alpha of Sam's pack and honestly, Sam felt relief that his pack would remain mostly intact. His pack. Mentally saying 'his pack' felt different now from when he first welcomed Jared and Paul to running on four legs. Huh, when did that happen? Startled, Sam asked himself when exactly he started to refer to the pack as 'his'. Not 'his' pack in the sense of belonging to a team. His pack as in his fiefdom, his domain, his possession.
Rachel's words about the wolf's reaction to the imprint helping to identify possible Alphas and separating out the weaker or less dominant wolves scared Sam. It was one thing to know that you're not the leader and only a placeholder. A vice president. Not the top dog. After being the leader and losing your place, essentially losing your familiar power, to being relegated to just another guy was not a happy thought. Sam was not looking forward to Jacob Black claiming his birthright. It would mean submitting to a younger and less experienced wolf in a fight if Sam's wolf wouldn't give up his position willingly. How would Emily react to the change in his status within the pack if lost such a fight? For fuck's sake. Everything kept coming back to imprinting and his imprint in particular. Every thought, every plan, every action. It certainly brought into focus that imprinting really did constrict your life. Who would have thought that being presented with your soul mate would narrow the possibilities open to a person and not expand life's possibilities? As life changing as growing a tail and having a pelt was when he first phased, it was nothing compared to the wonderful and craptastic additions that imprinting brought.
Every aspect of his life was tied to imprinting and he sighed with resignation that he couldn't avoid thinking about how it changed him and his life. His and Leah's engagement and Leah's heart were broken because of imprinting. He permanently scarred a beautiful girl because they had a typical couple fight one day before he had control of his wolf. Moving away from the rez after he stops phasing? No longer an option. Being off the rez with her scars was understandably uncomfortable for Emily. His eventual marriage wouldn't expand his family through loving in-laws as Sam, the only child, has always hoped. Emily Young's parents didn't support her relationship with Leah Clearwater's ex. To the Young's, Sam would always be Leah's ex-fiance; they would never see him as Emily's boyfriend, fiance or husband. And he really couldn't blame them when thinking about it dispasionately. It was awkward as ass all around. He knew that her parents thought he would break Emily's heart like he had Leah's and they lost respect for their daughter when she got involved with Sam. The holidays were filled with all kinds of gut clinching fun. From her father glaring at Sam with pure disgust over breakfast to her mother asking Emily if she was still planning on wearing white when she 'finally' married Sam. It was even worse when Emily told her mother with a blush that he hadn't officially proposed yet. Sam was still a little pissed that Emily said that even though she and Sam had spent the last six months figuring out their finances so they could get engaged in the next year. Things had been tight since Sam insisted on cutting Leah a hefty check to pay for her contributions to the house before they broke-up. Before he crushed her. Leah refused the check with a nicely executed, "Eat shit and die motherfucker." So Sam sent a check to Sue who opened a separate account for Leah in case she ever needed money. Emily had not been thrilled with their depleted resources and maybe that comment to her mother was part of her payback. It was one of the few times that Sam actually got angry at Emily since imprinting. Neither he nor his wolf were pleased and he remembered the effort it took not to call bullshit right then and there. Instead he snuck out after Christmas dinner for a long run that took most of the night.
So many of his relationships suffered. Soon after meeting Emily he made the discovery the she was a little jealous when he was out and stopped to talk to any girl that he had been friendly with during the 'Leah years' as he called them in his mind. Apparently imprinting didn't smooth over all the shitty little insecurities of the imprint. Wanting to please Emily made him less and less open to quick conversations until the old friends stopped trying to be more than superficially polite and these were not stupid girls. They saw Emily's influence on the once easy going guy. It really didn't help Emily's reputation on the rez. Especially when his mother heard about Emily's obvious influence and that her son had been less than friendly with people he had known his whole life. Even his relationship with his mother was given a painful kick in the ass when he imprinted.
Sam was an only child and loved, respected and feared his mother. Even his wolf was a little skittish when his mother was in a mood. Allison Uley had raised her son alone after his father left when Sam was five and the mother and son had always been close. Not in a strange gothic 'momma's boy' sense. But in a 'we're the only two in this boat and we need to work together' sense. When Emily entered his life Sam and his mother lost a little of the easy closeness. They had always been able to discuss most things, such as his dating (which was always really a discussion about Leah), her frustrations with her job as an office manager in Forks and the fact that neither one of them really liked his grandmother's meatloaf recipe ('cause unless meatloaf has lots of green peppers and onions and wrapped in bacon it's just a giant friggin' brick of meat). They shared a dark sense of humor. They had been a mother and son team that was self sufficient without being closed to new members. Allison Uley loved Leah like her own daughter and was good friends with Sue Clearwater. Allison was told about imprinting when her son broke up with his fiance and acquired a live-in girl friend within a couple of weeks. Allison stormed over to Sam's house and threatened to kick his ass from La Push to the state line and snatch the hair out that whore Emily's head. Sam decided that his mother needed to know what was going on if his life was going to be worth living. It was not a pretty confrontation. Sam was shaking and trying to keep from phasing while Emily was weeping and Allison was glaring. Even understanding the mechanics of imprinting didn't cause his mother to bat an eye before she ran Emily down to her face about how Emily had no shame and obviously no pride if she was willing to be Sam's obligation rather than his choice. Allison had no problem explaining to Emily exactly what she thought of her. Eventually it dawned on Sam that time does not heal all wounds and he had to concede that his mom hadn't warmed up to Emily. At. All. As in his mother sat her son down about a month after Emily moved into his house and presented him with a list of her concerns about Emily, the changes in her son, and Allison's continuing (actually they both knew it was an ever increasing) empathy with Leah. Allison essentially let her son know that he was pussy whipped, that he should get his testosterone checked and that Emily wasn't her first, second or third choice for her son. His mother hadn't been to his house for a visit since. He now visited his mother at her house. Alone.
Well, he wasn't alone now. He could hear Emily driving up in her little pickup truck. It sounded like her engine needed a tune up. He'd have to take care of that next week.
Sam still had so much to think about and he didn't want to worry Emily by being distracted. And he didn't want to answer any questions. Even though he felt so heavy in body and spirit that it was like there was cement in his veins not blood, he knew that he needed to leave the house before Emily heard or saw him. Even answering a question about whether he wanted baked chicken or baked salmon was beyond his abilities at the moment. He quickly wrote 'PATROLLING - BACK AT MIDNIGHT - SENDING SOMEONE TO FIX THE DOOR' in neat block letters on the message board hanging on the kitchen wall, put his cell phone in the buttoned cargo pocket of his shorts and ran out the back door towards the woods.
He hit the tree line just as he heard her call his name. He quickly undressed inside the cool forest canopy, tied his clothes to his leg and phased. A large black wolf tore through the woods towards his favorite place in the forest.
